


A Spider's DNA

by AstralDragons



Series: Symptoms [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Needles, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Whump, classic kidnapping fic because I have no shame
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-03-24
Packaged: 2019-10-30 21:34:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17836571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AstralDragons/pseuds/AstralDragons
Summary: Everyone wants to know what makes a spider tick.To do that, of course, you have to catch it. Put it in a cage and it’s all yours.AKA Peter's unique powers have caught the attention of millions of people all around the world. Unfortunately, that includes the bad guys.





	1. Chapter 1

Peter hums quietly to himself, idly kicking his legs back and forth. On the streets below, cars race by-- he’s up high enough that they all seem toy-sized with their bright lights cutting through the night air, the familiar, yet distant, white noise of honking and tires screeching more soothing than anything else.

He sighs and leans back on the edge of the rooftop, reaching to his right for the pizza box he’d brought along.

 

Aunt May had a “lady’s night out” scheduled for tonight, something about a jewelry-selling party, on top of it being a weekend night, so it had seemed like the perfect time to go out on patrol. But, of course, as soon as he has unlimited free time is when the city decides to get all peaceful on him. No purse thieves, no cats stuck in trees, no old ladies that need help crossing the street. There are a few drunk teenagers wandering about, but they’re all in tightly-knit groups-- they don’t need Spider-Man’s assistance.

 

Peter takes a bite of the pizza, somewhat grumpy as he chews. There’s just… nothing. Seriously nothing to do. In _New York_ _City_. Sure, he’s grateful for the peace, but there’s gotta be _something_ he can do tonight.

 

As he idly picks at the pizza’s crust, a different kind of noise than the usual hustle-and-bustle of the city catches his attention; it’s faint, but it _definitely_ sounds like someone screaming.

Peter hastily shoves the remainder of the slice of pizza back into the box, sloppily wipes his mouth off on his suit, and yanks his mask over the lower half of his face.

 

_Screaming, from a nearby alleyway? Jackpot._

  


_...Okay, it might just be another crack addict again, but it COULD actually be something this time._

 

Another distant scream quickens his movements and, with a sharp _thwip_ , he snaps out a string of web fluid and goes sailing off into the night.

He can’t help but grin a little bit as people yell in surprise and awe as he swings by-- it seriously _never_ gets old-- but he has Serious Spider-Man Business™ to attend to.

 

It doesn’t take long for Peter to locate the source of the screaming-- in a dark alleyway, he can make out the figures of two people-- one man and one woman, from what he can tell. In truly classic fashion, the man has the woman cornered and appears to be fighting with her over something.

 

Probably a purse. It’s almost always a purse.

 

Peter wastes no time in launching a string of web fluid at the man’s head, silently cheering as he lands a direct hit. The man lets out a muffled, enraged yell and drops the purse, trying to use both hands to get the sticky web fluid off of his face.

Peter sticks a triumphant landing behind the man, idly nudging him to the side.

“Listen, buddy, it’s rude to take stuff that isn’t yours. Seriously, your parents should’ve taught you better!”

He turns his head to the woman, shooting her an awkward little wave. She backs away, a fearful look in her eyes.

 

_Ah. Newbie to the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man._

 

Peter moves slowly, leaning down to scoop up the fallen purse-- a bright-pink, bedazzled thing-- and offers it up to the lady.

“Hi, sorry for swinging in so abruptly, ah-- I think you dropped this, yeah?” He smiles, even though he doubts she can see it past his mask. “Sorry you had to deal with Mr. Criminal over here-- I’ll take care of him for you, okay? Did he hurt you at all?”

 

The woman pauses before shakily taking the purse back. She can’t seem to meet Peter’s eyes, her own eyes filling with tears.

She doesn’t respond verbally, but she quietly shakes her head ‘no’.

Peter is about to respond-- try to give her some comfort, at least-- when his skin suddenly prickles. He sidesteps a punch from behind, instinctively snatching the man’s arm in midair.

 

With a single, reflexive press of a button, another stream of web fluid launches out from Peter’s wrist, entangling the man’s arm to the wall of the alleyway.

“Hey, that wasn’t very nice of you, either! I’m seriously gonna have to call the police on you for assault, buddy--”

 

He blinks as a hand settles on his shoulder from behind, his face flushing as he realizes that the lady is touching him.

“Oh! Um-- sorry for the mess, ma’am, I’ll take care of--”

Peter lets out a startled ‘oof!’ as the woman suddenly turns him around and pulls him into a hug, burying her face in his shoulder. She’s shaking and crying and-- oh god, okay, Peter hadn’t been expecting this level of emotion from her-- like it’s happened before and he doesn’t necessarily _mind_ getting hugs from civilians but it’s always kinda weird and he’s not sure how to calm this lady down--

 

His skin suddenly prickles once more, his instinct flaring up like a house fire doused with gasoline… but it’s too late to react.

 

Peter yelps as a sharp, stinging pain jabs into the side of his neck ( _oh god okay he thought that only happened in movies what the actual HELL that hurts so bad! That’s so gross what the hell! Why would anyone ever stab there!)_ . He manages to shove the lady away, but there’s something icy and _definitely not normal_ floating around in his veins, holy shit that’s bad--

 

“Karen,” he wheezes, “send a distress sig--AUGH!”

Peter gags as he’s lifted up in the air by the throat _(seriously what is with the baddies going for the throat today)_ and he desperately kicks at his captor.

 

_“Peter, I’m sending a distress signal to Tony Stark. He should be arriving shortly.”_

 

Okay, at least that’s something good, because even if Mr. Stark gets upset that he was caught off-guard, at least he’s not gonna be choked to death. Probably. That’s a definite win in his book--

 

He flails and wheezes, glaring down at the woman he had just ‘saved’ a mere couple of minutes ago. At least she looks somewhat remorseful about the damage she’s doing, but _damn_ she’s stronger than she looks and _wow_ his head hurts, everything aches, and his lungs are on fire.

 

Also… he suddenly feels tired.

 

Very, very tired, and very, very woozy.

Probably not a good sign, but it’s definitely getting harder to fight off.

 

Even as his vision begins to blur, Peter can see the figure of the man appearing behind the lady once more. He’s grumbling about something-- something about Peter’s suit, blah blah blah spider webs… oh. Oh shit, they’re yanking at his suit and it’s _cold_ all of a sudden, his skin is exposed and Karen is saying something but he’s on the ground like a sack of potatoes and they’re _pulling off his mask oh fuck they’re gonna know who he is_ \--

 

Peter doesn’t remember much after that.

 

He remembers the cold.

He remembers the vague sense of embarrassment at being in nothing but his boxers out in the New York cold, at night.

 

And he kinda remembers screaming for help…

 

 

 

But he most assuredly remembers that no one came.


	2. Chapter 2

Tony absentmindedly bites his lip, using a drill bit to gently tease a screw from the heap of scrap metal before him.  This suit had been a failure, but that’s alright. He knows what he needs to do now— generally speaking— and perhaps if he strengthens the area around the ribs then it should be fine on the next test run.   
  
Key word: should. A lot of Tony’s trial-and-error tinkering process resulted in spectacular mishaps, this new suit being no exception to the rule.   
  
He huffs and wipes his forehead with the back of his hand, removing a few trickling beads of sweat and replacing them with grease stains. Uncaring of his own disheveled appearance, Tony engrosses himself with his tinkering once more.

  
  
“Dum-E, pass me the pressure cutter— hey, no, not that one, you’re seriously no help at all—   
  
_ “Mr. Stark—“ _

  
“Friday, I already said I’m not taking anymore business calls.” Tony grumbles, sniffing as he leans back to check his work. Maybe slip a copper wire here, another screw there, a little padding to avoid chafing...   
  
_ “Sir, it’s Peter.” _

  
Tony’s mouth opens, briefly gaping like a fish, before his brows furrow and he finally looks away from his workbench.   
“The kid? Did something happen?”

  
_ “I’ve received a distress signal from the spider suit, mark seven. It appears that Peter’s vitals suddenly plummeted— implying unconsciousness— and the suit removed from his person.” _   
  
“Shit,” Tony hisses, on his feet in an instant. He’s running for the balcony nearby, hastily clicking a button strapped around his wrist. “Friday!”

  
_ “I’ve already pinpointed the suit’s coordinates. Remaining traces of heat indicate that Peter was removed from the suit approximately four minutes and fifty seconds ago.” _

_   
_ _   
_ __ Fuck.

__   
  
Tony doesn’t even hesitate as he throws himself from the tenth-story balcony, adapting quickly as pieces of his suit dart through the air and attach to his body.   
  
“Friday, scan for cameras within a five-mile radius of the kid’s last known location.”

  
_ “Already on it, sir. It appears there are twenty cameras in the vicinity, but there were none in the alleyway where Peter was knocked unconscious.” _   
  
At least there aren’t speed limits in the sky, though Tony does (barely) refrain from breaking the sound barrier in his rush to the red blip on his radar. It only takes two minutes to touch down in the alleyway, the already-cracked pavement crumbling under the harsh impact of the Iron Man suit.    
Something in his chest withers at the sight of Peter’s suit, carelessly discarded beside a rusted dumpster. Tony snatches it up in one swift movement, his visor already scanning the fabric.   
  
No fingerprints, aside from Peter’s. Heat signature is faint, but still there— it’s been seven minutes now.    
“Friday, find the nearest cameras. Anything that could have seen the entrance to the alley.”   
  
_ “I’ve found one camera with the alleyway’s entry point within its line of sight. Updating your radar, sir.” _   
  
Tony practically pounces towards the gas station’s roof camera, ignoring the surprised sounds of a few nearby pedestrians. He hovers at the camera’s level and immediately pops open its casing, already working on establishing a connection with the main system.

  
  
Nine minutes.

  
  
He has it hacked in a minute. A minute slower than he would have liked.    
  
“Friday, rewind the footage. Record any and all movement from the alleyway.”   
  
_ “Yes sir.” _   
  
There’s a brief pause, one that practically makes Tony’s skin itch out of sheer impatience and stress.   
__ “Sir... the camera’s data has been corrupted. I’ll attempt to recover what I can, but the footage appears to have been severely impacted.”   
  
He clenches his teeth. “C’mon Friday, give me something to work with here.”

  
_ “I’m trying, sir. It appears that all footage after three this afternoon has been corrupted by some form of malware. However, I’m currently attempting to salvage any data that may have survived the attack.” _

  
Tony grimaces, his gaze skimming over the corrupted data popping up on his visor as Friday scanned it. Whoever had tampered with the camera had really made certain that nothing would be left behind. Meanwhile, he was losing precious time and whoever had taken the kid was getting away—   
  
_ “Sir, I’ve managed to recover fifteen seconds of footage after three PM.” _

  
“Play it.”   
  
The video quality of the camera is shitty at best, but it’s something. There’s a figure on the street, wearing some kind of tool belt, and he’s walking away from the camera even as the footage begins to distort.   
  
The kidnapper— the word sits uncomfortably in his thoughts— is either a maintenance person or was pretending to be one. From past experience, the latter tended to be more likely.    
  
_ Come on. Turn your head, asshole. Give me a face to work with... _   
  
“Yes,” Tony hisses sharply. It’s for a split second before the clip completely devolves into static, but it’s there. The man turns his head.   
  
“Friday, pause on his face and enhance the image as much as you can.”

  
_ “Consider it done, sir.” _

  
Some of the distortion and static is removed from the image. Tony squints as Friday continues to enhance, until he can finally make out a ratty face with glasses. He doesn’t recognize the man, but he doesn’t need to.   
  
“Run facial recognition. Get me everything you can on this guy.”

  
  
As the information begins to pop up on his visor screen, his expression hardens. “You can’t be serious,” he snaps, the beginnings of a major headache already forming underneath his skull.   
  
_ “Very serious, unfortunately,” _ Friday quietly responds. He barely even registers that she’s spoken.   
  
Tony is stiff as he clenches the Spider-Man suit in one hand, the propulsors in his boots flaring up to shoot him higher up into the air.  A new blip appears on his visor’s radar and he wastes no time in shooting off into the night sky.   
  
_ Destination set; Oscorp Inc. Tower. Approximate time until arrival: five minutes. _

  
  
——

  
  
Peter’s brow furrows.   
  
His head feels like it’s drowning in warm cotton— there’s some kind of humming noise, like a car? Cars? He’s in a car, it’s warm... warm like fuzz, cotton, there’s a blanket or something on him—   
  
Okay.   
  
Wow, he seriously can’t muster up enough energy to process any of this. Instead, he sleepily groans, the noise feeble as it escapes his chapped lips.   
  
There’s a noise beside him. A lady’s voice, but it’s not Aunt May.    
Is it Pepper? He’s seen her before, but he thinks she definitely sounds different, this voice just feels different—   
  
_ “...dose is wearing off... ridiculous, it should have lasted longer...” _   
  
Another voice, further away. A gruff voice, a man. That’s definitely not anyone Peter knows. Like, Happy’s voice sounds grumpy and gruff, but it’s better than this one, this one kinda makes him feel upset for some reason—   
  
_ “.....another. Can’t risk... very impressive...” _   
  
Peter frowns, trying to focus his hearing despite how sluggish his entire body and brain feel.    
  
There’s a sharp sting in his neck. Peter groans and whines in protest— shit is that a needle he hates needles he hates needles especially in the neck that’s so gross— he feels nauseous as he attempts to wriggle away from the pain, dizziness flooding his head.   
  
_ “Shh... go back to sleep...” _   
  
The lady is talking again. He thinks there’s a hand moving through his hair, the pain is gone... mmm he’s so... so tired, and warm...    
  
Hair... where’s.   
Where’s my mask...? That’s not... not good...   
  
Peter softly sighs through his nose, his muscles involuntarily relaxing as the exhale leaves his body.   
  
So, so tired...   
  
Just... just a few more minutes...   
  
The voices slowly melt away from reality, replaced by a slowly-spinning darkness and, eventually, the embrace of a deep sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof, I definitely intended to post this a lot sooner than I did, darned real life.   
> So anyways, more cliffhangers! And I intend to actually post the next chapter sooner than this one, yeesh. Please feel free to leave comments and kudos because they definitely fuel my motivation to write. Thank you for reading this far!
> 
> (Also I wrote this chapter on an airplane, on my notes app. If there are formatting issues with this one, that's likely why. My apologies if I missed any formatting errors.)

**Author's Note:**

> Congrats! You've stumbled upon what is perhaps the millionth kidnapping fanfic you've ever read. I can't help it; I'm a sucker for the classic tropes.  
> Anyways, I hope you enjoyed what you've seen so far, cliche as it might be! I'm looking forward to updating soon... so until then, I leave you with this cliffhanger.


End file.
